


I had most, and then all of you

by brilliantbanshee



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Carlos POV, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, IT'S JUST SO SOFT, M/M, Missing Moments, Pretty much straight Tarlos fluff, The rest of the team are there but really this is just about Carlos and TK, These two are soft and good, and I have no regrets, probably the softest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee
Summary: TK Strand was going to be the death of Carlos Reyes.As he watched the man in question exit the bullpen he knew this for sure. That guy (that sweet, insanely attractive guy) was a walking disaster and Carlos was going to get caught up in his wake if he wasn’t careful. The problem was, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.The problem was that he didn’t want to be careful when it came to TK.Or,A series of vignettes about Carlos caring for, being frustrated by and worried about TK throughout season 1.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 29
Kudos: 315
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	I had most, and then all of you

**Author's Note:**

> When life gives you a quarantine write over 5000 words of soft nonsense I guess???
> 
> This started out as a one-shot, and then became a two-shot, and then became an entire Carlos based missing moment context filler for season one, so that's fun I guess. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think (and the title is from The Night We Met by Lord Huron, but altered a little bit)

What was it they said about making the same mistake and expecting a different result? 

As Carlos watched TK’s back disappear through his front door - left in a hurry, once again, but this time in anger - he wondered how much longer he would keep putting himself in this situation. Clearly the other man was not looking for anything serious - the failed dinner had made that abundantly clear. There was also clearly a lot more baggage than Carlos had originally anticipated. 

With a sigh, he looked at the wreckage of his grand plans. He had figured that a grand gesture was the way to go, but judging by the skid marks leading to his front door, he had guessed wrong. He plopped back into the chair he had thought he’d be eating dinner in and grabbed the abandoned glass of champagne. A part of him was tempted to call Michelle so at least dinner wouldn’t be a complete waste, but he knew he wasn’t up to explaining whatever the fuck this was just yet. 

A smart person would walk away from this. If nothing else this debacle had made it clear what TK wanted, and it was not what Carlos wanted. Yes, the sex was good (beyond good, if he was being completely honest with himself), but he wanted more. He wanted to get to know the other man, to spend time with him outside of the bedroom. He had wanted to start that tonight, hence the grand gesture. 

The grand gesture that had just blown up in his face. If that wasn’t a sign of defeat, he didn’t know what was. 

The evidence was all there, and Carlos was not one to ignore the evidence - usually. But there was something about TK that was making him consider ignoring his better judgment. 

He took a sip of the champagne and grimaced. No, he would let this go. Carlos Reyes was many things, but he was not a fool. And only a fool would continue to put their heart where it was not wanted. 

* * *

TK Strand was going to be the death of Carlos Reyes. 

As he watched the man in question exit the bullpen he knew this for sure. That guy (that sweet, _insanely attractive_ guy) was a walking disaster and Carlos was going to get caught up in his wake if he wasn’t careful. The problem was, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

When he had seen him brought in by one of the patrol officers he had offered to handle the booking before he was even fully aware of what he was doing. For all his pledging to let this particular shipwreck sink himself, he apparently couldn’t help himself. Thus, with the sting of last night’s rejection still fresh on his mind, he set about learning the facts of the case. Just like he would with any other perp who ended up at his desk. If he felt a little bit of pride when he saw the two guys TK has held his own against or cringed when he got a look at the bruising that graced his face it was all perfectly professional. And that was before they had their chat. 

He knew that TK was a mess - hell, he’d known that even before the harried confession just now, but he didn’t want to be careful. There was something Tyler Kennedy Strand that made Carlos want to throw caution to the wind and hope for the best. 

He only hoped that they both came out of this alive and relatively unmarred. 

Yet, Carlos couldn’t deny that he had just learned more about Tyler Kennedy Strand in the past 10 minutes than he had in the weeks they had known each other. He also couldn’t deny that as much as the baggage scared him, it also was a sign that TK was slowly opening up. It was the first genuinely honest conversation they had had. He had laid it all out for Carlos to see, for Carlos to share in. He had given him the ugly truth, and Carlos had hated the fear that was so evident on the other man’s face. TK was so sure that Carlos would scoff at him or tell him to get lost, but Carlos could never. He was fully entangled in the web of TK Strand and there was no going back. 

* * *

Infuriating was a word that could officially be added to TK Strands’ description. 

Carlos had thought they were in a good place, had thought that maybe the other man was finally settling in, not allowing himself to flee at the slightest sign of affection anymore. After all, _he_ had been the one to invite Carlos out tonight. 

And yet here they were, out together with TK staring daggers at Judd Ryder. If Carlos were a less confident man, he would have been worried that his date was staring like that at another man. 

Then the snipping started. Carlos held his ground. He cared about TK (far, far too much) but being a pushover had never been in his nature. Regardless he inwardly heaved a sigh of relief when his pointed commentary seemed to bring TK back to his senses, back to the sweet guy with the too-big heart that Carlos was falling for. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, looking down as he played with the straw in his mineral water, “this isn’t fair to you. What kind of an ass am I to be wasting the time I have with such a great guy complaining about work?” 

Even though Carlos had been thinking nearly the same thing, hearing TK say it - hearing the _way_ TK said it - made his heart hurt. He gently grasped the hand that was idly playing with the straw, “just because you may be acting like an ass, doesn’t mean you are one” he said softly, “everyone is allowed to complain about a co-worker from time to time. But,” he said, his voice growing more firm, “I do think that this has brought something up and that you need to talk to Judd about it. You guys need to make sure you’re solid, because I don’t need to be worrying about you running into burning buildings more than I already do because you’re having conflicts with your team who is supposed to watch your back.”

After a few more moments of silence, TK finally looked up and met his eyes. “You’re right,” he said softly, “it did bring up some stuff. And I will talk to him about it, tomorrow. But I’m out with this really cute guy right now and it’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”

And he flashed him a smile and Carlos couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He was only human, after all. 

* * *

When TK had called and asked if they could alter their plans for the night, Carlos had thought that maybe he was slipping back to the way things used to be, when they were nothing more than just a casual (fantastic) hookup. He made himself keep his voice steady (and his panic internal) as he asked what he had in mind. When TK had continued on to explain how Paul had been rejected by a girl he had cared about and was feeling down, it had been so hard not to audibly release a sigh of relief. Carlos had said yes so quickly he wasn’t even sure he had said actual words. 

A few hours later when the pair was leaning against Carlos’s car waiting for Paul to exit the station, he couldn’t keep himself from glancing at TK. The other man looked good - like there was anything new there - but it was more than just his physical appearance that had Carlos so drawn to him tonight. TK was almost vibrating with anticipation as he waited for his team member to come out of the station. He cared so much about other people, wanted so badly to see them happy, and the thought that he was doing something to cheer up his friend was enough to make him radiate excitement. 

Later as they danced closely in the club, TK only leaving his side to make sure that Paul did not feel left out, Carlos knew. He was well and fully in love with one Tyler Kennedy Strand and there was no going back. 

* * *

As a police officer, Carlos was well accustomed to the sound that a gun made when it fired. 

As a person, the sound filled him with dread as it almost always meant someone had been hurt. 

As Carlos Reyes, hearing a gunshot from the house behind him made his whole world freeze. The 126 was in there. Michelle was in there. _TK was in there_. 

Instinct took over a moment later and he found himself moving towards the house, his own gun drawn. There was a weapon present on scene and as a cop it was his responsibility to make sure that the weapon was secured and that everyone present was safe. 

The first thing he noticed as he entered the narrow hallway was the blood on the wall, opposite of the door. It stood out starkly against the white of the wall. He noticed it with dread and filed the information away - someone had been injured. He slipped by the fire crew, laser focused on the doorway that supposedly held the weapon. He ignored them, he had to (if he let himself look, he knew he wouldn’t want to look away). 

The shock that came with seeing a small child holding the offending weapon was like a physical shock to his entire system. As he lowered his own weapon and approached the shaking child with a low soothing tone, he wondered vaguely how this incident could get any worse. 

Once he had secured the gun and turned to take in the rest of the scene, he had his answer. As he turns, he takes stock of the 126 crew, taking a mental attendance as he goes. Mateo and Judd are standing to the side, looking grim. Marjan has tears in her eyes but looks unharmed. Paul stands beside her, face set in a stubbornly stoic expression that truly did little to hide his worry, his hand clasping the shoulder of his captain. Captain Strand is almost frantic; far more than any seasoned captain would be in the field. There are tears freely flowing down his face. All of these distinct details are trying to form a connection in his head, but his mind was moving too sluggishly. 

His gaze finds Michelle; unharmed but working desperately on the person sprawled on the ground before her. 

The figure on the ground is struggling to breathe; there is blood spilling from his lips with each gasping breath. His face is deathly pale, his bare chest slick with the blood doing its best to gush out of the bullet wound. 

It’s TK. 

Of fucking course it’s TK. 

Somewhere in his mind, Carlos had known. He had known the moment he hadn’t seen him with his crew, hadn’t heard his voice. The man was like a magnet to Carlos, his eyes instantly found him in any room. So when he hadn’t seen him...he had known, but he had so hoped he was wrong. 

His gaze roams over the crew again, landing on Paul. The two locked eyes and Carlos can read so much in the other man’s gaze: fear, sorrow, and hope. Carlos wants so badly to hang onto that last one, but before he can even consider it, the hallway grew quieter. 

As awful as the sound of TK’s desperate gasps for air had been, the sudden absence of them was far, far worse. 

Carlos could feel his heart stutter as he saw the moment TK stopped breathing. He heard the desperate pleas from Captain Strand for TK to not leave, to keep fighting but the only thing that he could focus on was staying upright. He felt as if the floor was about to fall out from beneath him. He gripped the doorframe tightly, using it to anchor himself. He watched as the medical team continued their work, all their actions and conversation a haze. He stayed there until TK was loaded onto a gurney and pushed down the hall. He slowly followed after the rest of the crew, all the while glancing down at the small revolver in his hand. He tightened his hand around the metal, still warm from firing that fateful bullet, and resisted the urge to throw the thing that was so determined to take TK away from him as far as he could. 

As he reached the squad car he glanced at it one more time before beginning the process of securing it properly. The slamming of ambulance doors had him looking up, and he watched the ambulance as it sped away. He allowed himself a moment to watch it grow smaller as it sped away before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. There was nothing he could do for TK now, and he had a job to do. All he could do now was hope for the best, and he would. He sent a plea to the universe as a whole before exhaling and opening his eyes. TK’s fate was out of his hands, he just hoped that the man was as strong as Carlos knew he could be. 

* * *

Carlos had been sitting in the parking lot of the hospital for the better part of 10 minutes, deciding whether or not he should go in. He didn’t want to intrude on a family moment. He wasn’t sure what TK had told anyone about them, hell - he wasn’t even sure what there was to tell. 

But he knew that he had to see him. It’s all he had thought about since the ambulance had pulled away. His paperwork had been a sloppy mess, his thoughts even more so. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his uniform when his sergeant had sent him home after watching him stare into space for the 4th time in the past hour. He had just driven directly here, to the hospital. Michelle had sent him updates, letting him know that TK had made it through surgery, that he was in recovery, that he hadn’t woken up. 

That they didn’t know _if_ he would wake up. 

The thought brought fresh tears to his eyes that he angrily wiped away. The thought of a world without TK Strand in it was intolerable. Even if they were not together, the world deserved to have him in it and he deserved the world. For all his bravado he was one of the most genuinely caring people Carlos had ever had the pleasure to meet and he had done absolutely nothing to warrant all the pain and suffering he had had in his life, and he certainly did not deserve to have his life cut short. 

Carlos had been raised in a very catholic family. He had grown up being taught that God helped the good and punished the evil. Years of being a cop had shown him that that was not always true. Sometimes the bad people won; sometimes good people got hurt. 

Carlos had distanced himself from the church as he grew older - there were far too many fundamental things that he and the powers that be disagreed on for him to ever truly take solace in the faith - but for the first time in a while, he said a prayer. 

He asked for this not to be the end - the end of TK, the end of them. He asked that TK’s crew would not have to face losing him; that Judd Ryder would not have to face the reality of losing a member of his team again, that Owen Strand would not have to face the horror of losing his son. He asked for that scared little kid to not have the weight of killing a person on his conscience. 

He asked for a chance to keep going, to see this thing (this wonderful, scary thing) through. To see what they could be. To keep that smile, that laugh, and those green eyes in his life. 

Carlos wanted to believe that good things happened to good people and there were an awful lot of good people involved in this scenario, so maybe their chances were stronger than some. 

Whatever the case may be, he knew he needed to see this through. If he did not go in there and see TK breathing with his own eyes (if he passed up on a chance to say goodbye), he would never be able to forgive himself. 

With a final prayer, Carlos got out of the car and headed towards this inevitable heartbreak (to this incredible hope). 

* * *

Carlos would be lying if he said his heart hadn’t jumped into his throat when his phone lit up with TK’s name. 

Owen had called him to let him know that the other man had finally woken up - officially bringing the longest 4 days of Carlos’s life to an end - but he hadn’t heard anything since then. He had expected another update from Owen or Michelle, but instead, he was receiving a call from the man himself. Who wanted to meet him for a chat. 

What was there even to say? They had left things so uncertain and undefined before this catastrophe. Then Carlos had gone and made everything more complicated by sleeping at the other man’s bedside like a lovesick teen. He had revealed this thing that they had to everyone that TK cared about without the other man’s consent. While Carlos didn’t exactly regret making an appearance at the hospital (it had felt right), he wasn’t exactly sure how TK felt about it. It seemed to be in violation of their “taking things slow” plan, but Carlos was pretty sure one party getting shot and almost dying nulled that agreement. 

Probably. 

Even if this chat (date?) ended horribly, it would be good to see TK walking and talking and not in a coma. This meant that if nothing else, this couldn’t be a complete disaster. TK was alive and conscious so that made it at least a partial victory he reasoned. 

One thing Carlos knew for sure is that he had had a lot of feelings over the past few days and before he did anything he needed to sort them out before the sight of one TK Strand stole every logical thought from his mind. 

* * *

Carlos kept glancing over at the overturned bus. He knew TK was good at what he did, but he had no gear, no backup, and, oh yeah - had been shot in the chest not even a week ago. 

As more spectators tried to get closer to the crash site Carlos was forced to redirect his attention and maintain the safety of the crowd. TK would be fine, it would all be fine. He had already had someone call 911 and help would be on the way. 

He repeated this mantra to himself as he focused on directing the scene around them, making sure that no one else was hurt. He was doing pretty well too until the bus caught on fire. 

Because of course it fucking did. 

And TK still hadn’t come out. 

Carlos was doing his best to stay calm and collected, but he was on his very last nerve. If TK didn’t walk out of that bus soon Carlos was going to throw caution to the wind, protocol be damned, and go pull his danger-prone ass out of that goddamn deathtrap himself. 

Turns out he didn’t have to. Just as Carlos was officially losing the last remnant of his composure and was about to go running into literal fire, a fire engine pulled up. With a mixture of relief and dread, Carlos saw the numbers 126 emblazoned on the side. He ran up to it before it had even come to a full stop and was shouting at Owen before he had even fully exited the truck. 

Owen put a steady hand on his shoulder and using his captain voice, told him to take a breath and try again. The older man was the picture of composure, but as Carlos repeated his plea - some amalgamation of the words “TK” and “bus” and “fire”, he saw it slip and be rapidly replaced by pure fear. Without another word to anyone, Owen is off, sprinting to the crash site. 

Carlos is left with 4 firefighters looking at him with concern and curiosity as they continue to gather their gear. “TK is in there,” he repeats again, with a gesture in the direction of the flaming bus. With no more than a communal glance of fear (and at least one curse from Judd), they are all gone, springing into action as well. 

From his place at the edge of the crowd, he sees them all springing into action. They’re like a well-oiled machine, a sight that gives Carlos more comfort than anything else could at this point. He watches anxiously, waiting for some movement, some sign of life. 

Another pedestrian tries to move closer to the wreckage, phone raised to try and capture the scene. He is quickly turned around by a pointed borderline hostile look from Carlos. It wasn’t that he had anything against those amateur reporter types, but Carlos was too stressed to be patient about it at this exact moment. 

Finally, two figures emerge from the wreckage. Carlos strains to see, desperate to know what condition the other man is in. He wants to know how severe his “stop giving us all heart failure” speech needs to be, and he thinks he’ll have support from the 126 crew in writing it. 

He can make out Owen’s body tightly wrapped around a slightly shorter one, supporting his weight and holding a mask tightly to his face. TK looks unsteady, but he’s at least conscious so Carlos mentally adds a check to the pro column. His optimism is quickly squashed as he spots bright red staining the front of TK’s shirt too close to his heart; too close to where a bullet had ripped through his chest not even a week ago. His dread begins to take over as he watches him crumple to the ground. 

He had just gotten TK back. They all had. Even if they were no longer a “we”, he couldn’t stand watching him almost die again. He could deal with his broken heart, he couldn’t deal with a funeral.

Just as Carlos was about to start working himself into a panic, TK suddenly sprung up from the ground, racing to catch up with the gurney rolling by with the trapped bus driver TK had been trying to help. He grasped her hand and smiled down at her, and Carlos could breathe again. 

As soon as a uniformed officer arrives Carlos quickly bestows crowd control to her with only the barest of details and makes his way to where the ambulance is being loaded. He has one recklessly brave firefighter to yell at or kiss senseless; maybe (preferably) both. 

* * *

When Carlos had offered to follow the ambulance to the hospital to pick up TK, he could have sworn a massive weight had been lifted from Owen’s shoulders. The worry lines didn’t disappear (they probably wouldn’t in this lifetime if TK had anything to say about it, Carlos thought wryly), but his shoulders relaxed an almost insurmountable amount. 

With a gruff thanks and a firm hand on his shoulder, he and the 126 crew are off to deal with some other tragedy from this disaster of a day and Carlos is left to pick his way back to his car and find his way to the hospital. 

He makes surprisingly good time considering the confusion and damage in the city and the lack of a lightbar on his Camaro. Once he arrives he finds his way to the desk and informs the harried charge nurse that he’s here to check and potentially pick up a patient. It’s a sign of how chaotic the hospital is that she asks for very little in the way of information before gesturing him towards the ED treatment bays. Carlos notes that he should probably be concerned about hospital security but at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. His focus is solely on finding the curtained treatment room that holds TK. 

He finds him on the second try, after only one somewhat awkward encounter with an older gentleman in the next curtain cubicle over. He breathes a sigh of relief as he sees him sitting up, a fresh bandage covering his chest and his blood-stained shirt in his hands. 

“Hydrogen peroxide is great for getting blood stains out,” he says by way of greeting. 

He instantly regrets going for the suave entrance as it causes TK to jump and then cringe in pain as he jostles his fresh stitches. Carlos quickly crosses the room, hands out but quickly lets them drop awkwardly to his sides as he doesn’t know where to put them to help. 

“Carlos?” TK says in confusion once he has his breath back, “What are you doing here?”

Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well, your dad and team are still on shift and it’s not like you really know anyone else here in Austin that you could call, so I told your dad I’d come to see how you were doing and drive you home.” 

They stare at each other for a few silent moments before TK shakes his head, “even after I pretty much dumped you not even an hour ago you volunteer to pick me up from the hospital. You really are too good to be true, Carlos Reyes.” 

“I like to think of it as the decent thing to do,” Carlos said wryly. 

“But how many people actually would do it?”

“I’d like to think that most people would come to check on someone they care about after watching them get stuck in a flaming bus after getting shot not even a week ago.” 

Even as he said it, Carlos wanted to cringe. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. 

But instead of rasing to the bait as he had expected, TK seemed to crumple a little. “You still care about me, even after all that?” he asked softly. 

Carlos stepped closer, “I think I may always care about you Tyler, and so far it doesn’t look like anything is going to change that.”

TK met his eyes, “Are you sure about that? I’m a mess, I’m probably going to hurt you even if I’m not trying to.”

Carlos closed the distance between them, and grasped the hand holding the ruined shirt, “What are you trying to say, Ty?”

“I’m saying that something about being in that bus, trying to save that woman gave me the clarity I haven’t had in a while. Definitely not since I got shot, possibly not since before I even left New York. You know how I said that I wasn’t sure about anything right now, and that included us?”

“Vividly,” Carlos said dryly. 

TK winced, “Yeah well, about that. When I was in that bus, trying to save her, even when I knew that I probably couldn’t and she was telling me to go, I felt at peace. Everything made sense in a way it hadn’t in so long. I’m meant to be a firefighter, I’m meant to be here in Austin.” He paused for a moment and put his other hand on top of Carlos’s, “and I think I’m meant to be with you, if you’ll have me.” 

He looked up at Carlos expectantly, and Carlos couldn’t find the words for what he wanted to say, so he did the next best thing. Turns out kissing that recklessly brave firefighter senseless was by far the better option. 

As they broke apart Carlos looked down at TK, “Once you’re discharged, how about we go somewhere and talk this out a little more?”

TK smiled at him. “I’d like that,” he replied, “but there’s something I need to do first.”

* * *

Carlos kept mindlessly scrolling through his phone, not even seeing any of the photos on his Instagram. It had been at least 3 minutes since the ladder truck holding TK’s team had pulled back into the station. He knew that TK needed to do this alone and he knew he would be able to do it. He also knew that there was no way anyone of his team members would be anything short of receptive to what TK was going to confess to them. 

That didn’t make him any less anxious. He still knew that his boyfriend was in there facing a major personal hurtle alone and Carlos was stuck out here, waiting in his car. He wanted nothing more than to be there, standing by TK, but the other man had asked for space so here he was. Waiting. 

Carlos was not good at waiting. 

But if there was anyone he would make an effort for, it would be Tyler Kennedy Strand. 

His boyfriend. 

Even thinking it made him smile. 

He glanced at the time again. It had been 6 minutes. That was enough time for a conversation to have taken place, right? If nothing else it was enough time that a slow walk to the bay door should solve the problem. 

Thankfully, his timing was perfect because when he appeared at the bay door it was in time to see the rest of the crew heading for the locker room and TK and Owen embracing. As father and son pulled apart, he caught Owen’s eye for the briefest moment. He vaguely heard him make some comment to TK which had the other man laughing softly before walking away, towards Carlos. 

As the firefighter nears him, he raises his eyebrows in question. The overdramatic smile and sigh he gets in response is so gentle and so TK that it makes Carlos hurt with love for this man. When TK draws near enough to touch him and curls his arms around him he leans in, pressing a soft kiss at his neck. The past week had been more stressful than he would ever like to imagine again, but if it ended with this moment, Carlos would willingly do it a hundred times. 

Later that evening as the two of them lay stretched out across the hood of Carlos’s car in companionable silence watching a natural wonder play out above them and TK takes his hand in his, Carlos knows the other man is right. They did make a good team, and they would continue to make a good team. 

This felt right, this love that they had.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's all I've got folks, let me know what you think in the comments. If there are more things you want to see me write you may as well let me know that as well because if there was ever a time I might get to it, it would be now. 
> 
> Update: I have since written a companion fic [Some, and then all of you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101956) from TK's perspective. If you enjoyed this one, go give that one a look too!
> 
> I hope your all safe and practicing proper social distancing and doing what you need to do to get through this time. If you are one of the thousands that have lost a job or income due to this I am so sorry and I hope that you make it through. I'm fortunate enough to be able to work remotely and while it's kind of a nightmare at least I am still able to get paid. In the meantime, I'll just keep reading and writing fanfiction to cope with this new hellscape. 
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you think because the first time in any new fandom is always a bit scary or come find me on [tumblr>](https://brillliantbanshee.tumblr.com/)


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